


Don't Ever Think I Don't Love You

by cabin12kiddos



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Cabin Six, Cabin Ten, Cabin Twelve, Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Delphi Strawberry Service, Half-Blood Hill, The Big House, Volleyball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24388132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabin12kiddos/pseuds/cabin12kiddos
Summary: Dionysus doesn't always say he loves his kids, but they know he does.
Relationships: Castor & Dionysus (Percy Jackson), Castor & Lee Fletcher, Castor & Pollux (Percy Jackson), Castor & Silena Beauregard, Chiron & Dionysus (Percy Jackson), Silena Beauregard/Charles Beckendorf
Comments: 4
Kudos: 86





	Don't Ever Think I Don't Love You

Dionysus was the god of madness and the scary director of Camp Half-Blood who would turn you into a dolphin if you rubbed him the wrong way. He was one of the twelve Olympians, rulers of the universe, and the patron god of Earth’s most infamous cult. He was _not_ , however, someone you wanted to mess with. Unless you were his child, that is. 

Castor had been looking forward to the volleyball match all day. It was a little tradition the year-rounders had to lighten things up after everyone left for the fall. 

There was a smaller group of them that year. More campers were attempting to live with their mortal families for what little time they had, with the impending war and all that. There was a good chance they were going to die.

Castor would go to his mortal home, live with his mother for the remaining months, if he was able. He’d liked to have gotten to know her outside of what his dad could tell him, and the little combined memory of him and his twin brother, Pollux. It wasn’t much. 

But at the same same time, growing up at Camp Half-Blood was a unique experience, and Castor wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

It was the little things that made him love growing up here. The cozy little reading nook that was tucked in the back of Cabin Twelve. The swing in the back of the cabin, adorned with grape vines. The way the porch creaked when someone who didn’t know where to step walked up to their door. His father’s rambling that could be heard all over camp despite him pertaining to the Big House. This was home. 

As Castor worked his way up Half-Blood Hill, he could hear the familiar ranting, as Dionysus discussed the strawberry sales with Chiron. “Why are we doing something for the brats again? Isn’t giving them life and letting them keep it enough?” Chiron gave a loud sigh. After decades of putting up with the god of alcohol, anyone would be insane not to call the centaur remarkably patient. 

“While that is to the great benefit of both the gods _and_ their children, the kids could use a bit of cheering up. Many of their friends and siblings won’t be returning until next summer, and with all the evil forces running around, there’s no certainty in that either.” Dionysus seemed to concede to this. “Fine, what’d you have in mind?” 

“Well, the strawberry sales have exceeded the expected margins this year, so I was thinking we could give the year-round campers a little pet project. With some architectural wisdom from Athena’s children, and a helping hand from Percy, we might be able to fashion a-”

Before Chiron could finish, a conch horn sounded, signalling that the volleyball match would be starting soon. Castor pulled his focus away from Chiron and his father’s conversation (not an easy feat for a severely ADHD demigod) and quickened his steps toward the sandy court. 

As he neared the competition, the son of Dionysus spotted a flowing mane of black hair pulled into a loose ponytail. Silena Beauregard squatted in the corner of the court, stretching in preparation for the event. Cabin Ten’s head counselor was surprisingly agile in the sand, and cunningly paired her natural skill with a ruthless attitude and a mean spike. She would be the one to beat. Luckily for Castor, Aphrodite’s daughter was bound to be a bit distracted this year, with her not-so-secret boyfriend, Charles Beckendorf, sitting in the front row. She may be a dam good volleyball player, but Silena was still born of the love goddess. 

After five sets, the game was still going. The two teams were evenly matched, with Castor and Silena as the clear captains. Sherman botched a serve from the back of their side of the court. Castor watched as Clarisse aggressively spiked the ball back toward her brother, sending it straight toward him. The son of Dionysus lunged, desperate not to let it fall just in bounds, delivering the lead to Silena. 

Just as his fingertips made contact with the smooth plastic, there was a crunching noise, and a firey pain spread through Castor’s ankle. He gave a small groan before crashing to the ground, a cloud of sand settling around him. 

“Castor!” he heard the daughter of Aphrodite yelp, rushing to his side. Silena shot her ever-changing eyes upward, to her sister, sitting on the nearby bench. “Lacy, go get Lee in the infirmary!” The petite blonde rose from her seat and dashed toward the Big House.

He was about to brush the injury off, claim it didn’t hurt all too bad, when another voice sounded behind him. “Cast!” In the blink of an eye, his father was at his side, tenderly touching the wound. “Dammit son, you gotta be more careful! I can’t lose you, not after Dianne. I won’t have you leaving me too. I-” 

The god of wine stopped short after he realized he was in the company of other demigods besides his own child. Whipping around, he screeched, “Well what’re you all still doing here? Go do something useful!” The campers dispersed, though not without more than a little confusion as to Mr. D’s concern over one of his “punishments”. 

Dionysus stoked his son’s platinum blond head as he suppressed a tear. “Dad…” Castor started. “Don’t worry, alright?” the demigod turned his violet gaze upward. “I’m not leaving you. Pollux and I are going to make it out of this war alive and come back to camp, and you’re going to be grumpy as always and pretend not to care about me even though we all know I’m your favorite, and things are going to be completely normal again.”

He started to go on, but Dionysus had pressed his divine lips to Castor’s forehead. “I _do_ love you, ok? Never think that I don’t.” 

The Olympian pulled away as Lee Fletcher came jogging up the hill, medical supplies in hand. “Well it took you long enough!” he screeched. Dionysus made his way back to the Bug House leisurely, quietly brainstorming ideas of how to remind the campers that he was still scary, all powerful Mr. D. 

As the god left, Lee turned to Castor. “You know, I always felt bad for you. We all spend our time hoping our immortal parents give us a second thought or commission us to run a lethal errand for them. But you and Pollux? You guys see your divine dad everyday. And everyday he makes it crystal clear that he doesn’t give a flying schist about you. I always wondered why you weren’t seething with rage. Why you didn’t get angry with him. Why…” 

“Why didn't we join Luke?” Lee hesitated, clearly fretful that he had crossed a personal boundary. He hesitated before continuing with, “Yes.” Castor smiled. “Because of what you just saw. Maybe he’s scary to you guys. Maybe he’s mean and rude. Sometimes I think he wears the mask a little too well. But that’s exactly what is it: a mask. We know he loves us. He shows us in little ways. But we know.” 


End file.
